I sat on the couch with Chanyeol, watching TV like we usually did. "Do you want anything? I'm starving," he stated, followed by the low rumble of his stomach.

"I can tell. Your tummy is loud," I replied with a giggle, poking his stomach. He managed a smile, but he wasn't as happy as he used to be. "What? Are you okay, Yeollie?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," he said quickly. I pouted and attempted to kiss his cheek, but he reached up and swatted me away. "Nicole, I'm trying to watch FIFA. Stop it," he ordered.

"B-But, why? You used to love that. Where's my happy virus?" I asked him. He turned to me with a serious face.

"Please," he scoffed, turning back to the game.

"Where is he? I want him back!" I said loudly, playfully hitting his chest.

"Nicole! Please, I'm watching Germany. You know how many German friends I have?" Chanyeol asked expectantly. I thought about it for a second and scanned the list of his friends that I knew of. Not a single one was German.

"Umm, none?" I replied.

"Exactly. So let me watch this," he answered matter-of-factly. I pouted when his attention returned to the game, so I sighed and laid my head back on his chest. I suddenly wondered if Baekhyun was busy...

"Nicole, Chanyeol is your boyfriend now. No more Baekhyun," I said to myself in English, hoping so much that Chanyeol didn't know English.

"What about me and Baekhyun?" Chanyeol asked in Korean. I sighed in relief that he couldn't understand me.
"I said I'm cold," I told him. He thankfully believed me as he pulled the blanket over my shoulder and I snuggled into the warmth of his chest.

About twenty minutes later, the game had finished and I begged Chanyeol for us to go out and eat. "Please, Yeollie? We never get to eat out anymore!" I begged.

"Because I don't want to go out and eat. There are so many fangirls and you remember how they glared at you whenever we went out!" Chanyeol fired back.

"But, but that's not fair! Please, Park Chanyeol!"

"You sound like a child begging for a toy! We can just eat here!" he snapped. I felt tears blooming into my eyes but I refused to let him win.

"Now that I think about it, Baekhyun was a lot nicer than you were," I said in English. English felt much safer than Korean to me, perhaps because no one else could understand my thoughts.

"I can't even understand you anymore!" Chanyeol yelled in frustration. "Why can't we just eat here?!"

"Because I don't want to!" I hissed back to him. He glared and stormed off into the kitchen. I followed like a small puppy, even though it used to be the other way around and he would follow me. Those were the good days, when we still cared for each other.

"Why are you so stubborn?!" Chanyeol barked.

"I am NOT going to eat microwaveable ramen noodles again, Park Chanyeol! God, I feel like I'm in college again when my main diet was leftovers and anything that could be made in a microwave!" I shouted back to him.